


Tapioca Days

by hutchynstarsk



Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: AU, Foster Care, Gen, kid AU, tapioca
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchynstarsk/pseuds/hutchynstarsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David has a new foster brother...<br/>AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tapioca Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuonji14](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kuonji14), [barancoire](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=barancoire).



> _  
> For[](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/profile)[ **kuonji14**](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/) , who shared this idea with me a long time ago, and [](http://barancoire.livejournal.com/profile)[**barancoire**](http://barancoire.livejournal.com/), who asked for a Christmas AU with children. No Christmas, sorry!_

~1600 words

 

 

 

**Tapioca Days**

by Allie

 

David could smell the tapioca cooking before he even entered the house. It smelled like warm milk, and pudding, and home. He dropped his battered book bag on the porch and ran inside. “Tapioca! Can I have some?” He wrapped his arms around the wide, comforting girth of Mrs. Dobey in a quick hug. Then he ran in a circle in the kitchen before she could catch him and hug him back. “Can I have some? I’ll still be hungry later!” He always was.

“David, be still!” She swatted at his shoulder. David giggled and dashed away again.

“Tapioca!” he demanded, wild and rowdy after a day of sitting (or trying to sit) still for school. It was always such a relief to get home.

“David, stop for a moment. Meet your new foster brother.”

And then David saw him. A blond boy, sitting on a kitchen chair, very still and awkward-looking. He held a paper grocery bag with something in it on his lap. The top of the bag was crumpled from being folded over too many times. His tennis shoes almost touched the ground. He sat very still, his eyes pale and scared.

David stopped in his tracks, his sneakers squeaking on the floor. He stared.

They were good sneakers. Mr. Dobey had taken him to a shoe store when he first arrived and bought them for him. Mr. Dobey was nice and David already loved this family. They bought him things. They gave him food. They acted like he was their boy.

Even Cal acted like David was his little brother—telling him to leave his stuff alone and not bother him, but playing catch with him and letting him listen along to his music when Cal wasn’t busy with big kids.

But… here. This kid. He was new.

David’s eyes were wide at first. Then they narrowed, and he adjusted his stance, standing the way he did when he wanted to look tough at school so nobody would pick on him for being weird and new. He looked this boy over carefully.

The new boy was no bigger than David. He actually looked just a little bit smaller, and he had the docile look of a scared rabbit. He was kind of skinny. He didn’t look like he’d eat up all the tapioca.

David made up his mind and stuck a hand out, smiling. “Hi! Welcome home.”

Then he ran off because he wanted to look at Cal’s old comic books.

“David! You didn’t even ask his name.” But he was gone by then, his mind running on different tracks, busy busy busy with all the things he couldn’t do at school and now could.

#

The new kid was still there at supper. He didn’t eat much. David was pleased to see he’d been right. The new boy ate all his tapioca, but he didn’t ask for seconds.

David did. He asked for thirds too, and he got it.

That was another good thing about the Dobey household. They made a lot of food and everybody got to eat as much as they wanted. Cal ate and ate but stayed skinny because he was a teenager. David tried to eat as much as Cal did. Mr. and Mrs. Dobey were big, friendly, and soft. David couldn’t get his arms the whole way around when he hugged them. Sometimes they went on diets. It usually didn’t last long and they kept cooking nice food because they didn’t want to make Cal go on a diet, too. David didn’t like the diets because he didn’t want them to get skinny and hard and less huggable, like the aunt he stayed with before foster care. She’d cooked a lot of things with cabbage, and she never made tapioca. She’d also told him not to run in the house, and hit him when he did anyway because he just couldn’t sit _still_ anymore.

Mrs. Dobey made lots of good food and lots of desserts. He liked Mrs. Dobey’s tapioca the best of all desserts he’d ever had. He liked her friend chicken the best of all the meat he’d ever had. And he got to eat as much as he wanted, too, and usually have a drumstick.

He even liked vegetables when Mrs. Dobey cooked them. After tapioca and chicken, he liked toasted cheese sandwiches best. Especially if some of the cheese escaped and got fried and crunchy. It tasted best eaten with that messy red soup. It had made a stain all down his blue shirt that never came out. The shirt disappeared eventually. He didn’t even get in trouble; he just wasn’t allowed to wear good clothes for eating anymore.

“Ken, would you like more tapioca?” asked Mrs. Dobey in that friendly voice she used when she didn’t know you yet but wanted you to feel safe.

Ken. That was the blond kid’s name. David stopped chewing, his cheeks bulging, and turned to stare. The boy looked down and shook his head. He was going red, embarrassed just from being talked to.

“I’ll take it,” said David. Everybody ignored him. “I’ll take it. I’ll take more,” said David, holding out his bowl for fourths.

But they were giving Ken more first, even though he hadn’t said one word. David scowled, and kicked his chair. Cal poked him under the table with his foot, and handed him a dinner roll. “Wait your turn, dodo.”

So David waited his turn, ate the dinner roll and then had fourths. He was too full to ask for fifths.

Ken finished all of his seconds, even though he hadn’t asked. David heard him speak for the first time then. Ken got up carefully and in a very quiet voice, said “Thank you.”

#

“You’re going to be a big boy and not complain about sharing a room, aren’t you, David?” Mrs. Dobey was re-buttoning his pajama top for him because he’d got it crooked, again.

“Uh-huh.” He held his arms out straight like a scarecrow. He imagined himself as a scarecrow standing in a field chasing away large, black birds. Then the black birds were bullies and he was chasing them away, too.

“You’ll be a good boy and make Ken feel welcome?”

“Uh-huh.” He tried not to yawn. Maybe she’d let him stay up late if he didn’t look tired, since he wasn’t the littlest anymore.

Mrs. Dobey looked into his face, meeting his gaze. Her hands were warm on his arms. He didn’t mind when she held him when he was tired. It was kind of nice, actually. It reminded him of Mom, but that reminding didn’t make him feel so sad anymore.

“You remember how you felt when you first came here?” she asked.

He smiled back at her warm brown face and nodded. “And now I’m family.” He moved forward and kissed her cheek. Mrs. Dobey smiled, kissed him in return, and pulled him into a hug.

She was bigger around lately, more round in the middle, and for once she wasn’t trying to diet. David liked that, even though she didn’t have as much of a lap for hugs. They had been talking about the family “getting bigger.” David thought that was a good thing. It was nice when people got bigger. If you were a kid, it meant you could throw a baseball farther and run faster. It were you a grownup, it meant there was more of you to hug.

“You’re a good boy, David.” Mrs. Dobey patted his back. “And I know you’ll help us make Ken part of the family, too.”

“Okay,” said David, smiling, proud of being called a good boy and trusted to do something. That was one of the things he liked best about living with the Dobeys. Even if it sometimes meant chores. Cal did chores too but his were harder.

David went to his room still feeling happy. Another small bed was in the room now, using up most of the extra space. But he told himself that was okay because he got a new brother out of it. And this one was more his size and couldn’t boss him around.

 _I’ll teach him stuff,_ David decided. _Maybe he’ll want to play catch when Cal’s too busy.  
_  
“Hi Ken,” he said, smiling at the mop of whitish hair and the scared blue eyes peeking out from under the edge of the sheet. Ken’s fingers clutched the sheet. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze followed David.

The nightlight was on, and the lamp on the table between their beds. David sat down on the edge of his bed and took off his slippers. They were as new as his shoes. They were red, and his sneakers were blue.

“You’ll like it here, Ken. They’re really nice and you can eat as much as you want. Nobody hits. Even Cal is nice but he pretends not to be. We can play catch tomorrow.” He didn’t wait for an answer but climbed into bed.

He hesitated. “I’m gonna turn off the light now. But it’s never really dark because of the nightlight. If you have to get up and get a drink, or go to the bathroom, or even eat something, nobody gets mad at you. And there’s always something in the fridge.”

Ken looked interested. His eyebrows rose questioningly.

“Nope, no more tapioca left.” David grinned.

Ken made a face.

David reached for the light and then hesitated again. “I’m here if you need me. I’m your brother now. Your _big_ brother,” he added, just so they were absolutely clear.

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Ken’s face light up in a grin before Ken snuggled down under the sheet.

David smiled, too. He turned off the light and went to sleep, dreaming of scarecrows and tapioca. In his dream the scarecrow played catch with him and had blond hair. And then they ate tapioca. There was plenty and it never ran out.

 

 

 

 

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